Cabin Fever
by Laredo Grissom
Summary: Sometimes the best times are spent alone... sometimes not.


A/N: Thank you, Danie!

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Smoke billowed swiftly from the chimney of the winter lodgings, gray and feathery in form lent a soft contrast against the moonlit sky. White, fluffy snow glistened all around on the rolling hills and ravines of the mountainside. A haphazard trail shoveled out to accommodate any occupants of the large two-story cabin led from a lonely shed to the steps of the front porch. Nearby pine trees swayed from the gusting winds, its boughs bending from the weight of newly fallen snow.

Inside the warmth of the cabin, huddled within a heavy duvet, Sara Sidle stared out at the fields from the window seat, viewing the majestic beauty that spread out before her with the white fluffy fields and snow-covered trees, the creaking noise and movement of the branches and the blowing snow telling her it was getting nasty outside. The blazing fire behind her coaxed her blood to warm under its scrutiny, creating a shiver to run through her body. Although her body was cold beneath the blanket, her head felt feverish from her exertions of earlier. She laid her head against the frost-covered window and sighed in relief. She was thankful to be inside, away from the cold.

Traipsing through the snow had been invigorating if not exhausting. Her activities afterward hadn't afforded her any respite either.

But gazing out again over the landscape and imagining what the whole picture must look like, she could only think of it as – picture perfect. That's how she'd describe this place. The log cabin reminded her of scenes from old movies where friends gathered on the holidays for parties, the windows bright from the lights inside and reflecting off of the newly fallen snow.

The loft overlooked the living area and had a complete view of the fireplace, while the kitchen was below and to the left. Warm colours of gold, blue, red, and green, in solids and different patterns of plaids, along with matching pillows and throws created a haven against the cold winter nights.

She'd often wondered what it would be like to spend time with Grissom, alone, whether away from work or even away from the city. So it followed that when he took an interest in her vacation plans, she thought about him joining her, secluded from all other outside interests, possibly doing those things that she longed to do with someone rather than alone.

She sighed wistfully. Those scenarios had only played out in her head during nights off when she was at home and had time to daydream. But, lately those dreams didn't come to her as often as they used to. A soft smile tipped the corners of her mouth and her eyes drifted off through the window and into the distance.

If Grissom's answer to her dinner invitation had been just a bit more ambivalent, she might have dared offered to let him share the cabin with her. Of course, knowing if he'd join her would have helped, but security had been a fleeting feeling within her for quite sometime.

Things had changed so much in the last couple of months. The team split, the new addition of Sofia to theirs and as it would seem, Grissom hadn't had the time to listen to her about her counseling sessions or to notice how withdrawn she'd become. And Sara's time had been more or less eaten up by mentoring Greg Sanders.

Instructing Greg became her refuge, her way to disconnect all feelings from those around them. She did her best and that meant giving fully of herself to the project or person in this case.

Now, after Nick's harrowing experience, the team was back together. Mentoring Greg was no longer the large focus of her time that it had been and Grissom started to take notice of the life happening around him.

She'd grown to understand this person called Sara Sidle. She knew what she wanted in a relationship and she knew her feelings for Grissom ran deep. It wasn't some schoolgirl crush or infatuation. She also knew, in her heart, that if she couldn't be with him, she wished he could be happy with someone rather than alone.

The last few weeks had supplied many surprises for her and things were looking up. For several days, she felt her emotions slide from great highs to some pretty low lows and then back up the rollercoaster ride again. Sleep had never been so welcome on some nights and other days ended far too soon.

And tonight was one of those nights. There were several days yet to go before she had to return to work, but she'd enjoy them to their fullest.

She scooted off the window seat and shuffled in her big fluffy slippers to the sofa in front of the fireplace. The book she'd brought along was lying on the cushion. It was a romance with a touch of murder and mayhem, and she'd deny ever reading it if asked.

With a cup of steaming-hot cocoa within arms reach and another throw wrapped snuggly around her legs, Sara nestled into the deep pillows and turned to her bookmarked page.

The hours flew by. Before she knew it, the grandfather clock in the corner chimed two o'clock in the morning. Dropping the book onto her lap, she raised her hands above her head and squirmed into a long, stress-free stretch.

As she leaned back over the arm of the sofa, a shadow fell over her and she looked up startled. The misplaced fear soon dissipated, turning into an inviting smile. Reaching up to encircle the back of his neck, she pulled him down over her head for an upside-down kiss. The position awkward, he quickly maneuvered himself so that they were facing each other, one knee settled on the edge next to her.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I think I've slept too much recently. I'm not tired anymore."

He arched his eyebrow, silently questioning her.

Shrugging in response, she said tongue-in-cheek, "Maybe you've lost your touch."

A chuckle rumbled though his frame. He stood, grasping her left hand, his voice low and purposefully seductive, "I believe the saying is practice makes perfect."

"But Gil, repetition makes an impression."

Both chuckled softly as they made their way, arm-in-arm, to the upstairs loft.

The End


End file.
